Despite being a huge Anthony Bourdain fan, I had never eaten at his restaurant here in New York, Les Halles. Truth is, I’m not sure it’s really “his” restaurant anymore. He’s not an owner and the Les Halles website touts him as “chef-at-large” for the chainlet of restaurants (now in Miami and Washington, D.C.!) which is an oblique way of saying that you shouldn’t strain your neck looking for him in the kitchen.
Still, I thought there might be something of a Bourdain-influence on the restaurant, so I was excited when a local guidebook/magazine publication here in New York City sent me to review the place. You can spot the Bourdain vibe in a few places; the front, where there’s a butcher shop, and the general ambiance of the place, which is heavy on the theatrics, just like his books and his show. Watch those crepes suzette sizzle and flambé!
But, man alive, it’s been ages since I’ve eaten in a restaurant with that many tourists. There were guidebooks open at almost every table, which happens, but isn’t it supposed to be a New York-edgy restaurant? It’s also incredibly overpriced ($160 for two, including tip, for three courses and a sub-$40 bottle of wine) for simple French food found in superior, cheaper iterations at quite a few bistros in Manhattan alone. And with the way T.B. eats on his show, one would expect some hoofs or snouts on the menu, but it’s hardly more challenging than halfheartedly offering some tripe and boudin noir.
I can’t fault Anthony Bourdain, of course, because he’s not in the kitchen—he’s too busy being, you guessed it, a celebrity chef, or at the very least, a celebrity—and French dining in New York has moved on a bit in the sixteen years since Les Halles opened. So, pour out a forty ouncer for Tony Bourdain—he’d want it that way--and hope he steps up to the stove again soon.